


The Heat of the Moment

by justromandaydreams



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Singapore feels, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 14:10:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20743496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justromandaydreams/pseuds/justromandaydreams
Summary: Words better left unsaid: “Life isn’t fair Charles. It’s about time you learned that.”





	The Heat of the Moment

There was nothing like Singapore at night. Especially after winning the grand prix. It was a city of the future. Of dreams.

Sebastian had no interest in moving but the city felt a bit like home. The winding streets. The humidity. It was the opposite of Germany and Switzerland. But he loved it all the same.

The race winner wandered through the paddock taking in the sights one last time before he and the team packed up in the morning. It was peaceful. Nobody around.

Well, almost nobody. Sitting in front of the Ferrari garage, was Charles, staring off into the distance, a morose look on his face. He looked like he needed a hug.

For some reason that irked Sebastian. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the race, but he was itching for a fight.

“You know I heard what you said on the radio about the strategy not being fair.”

Charles flinched, clearly not expecting company. An undecipherable look crossed his face as he resolutely stared at the ground

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t really.” The Monegasques’ voice was soft, fragile.

“Life isn’t fair Charles. It’s about time you learned that.” Sebastian wasn’t joining Charles’ pity party.

His teammate looked at him for the first time and Sebastian could immediately tell he’d crossed a line. Charles’ expression had hardened into an icy glare. His eyes glimmered with what Sebastian was taken aback to realize were tears. Oh great, now he was going to have to suffer through a temper tantrum.

“Really? Tears?” Sebastian laughed harshly. “Bit immature don’t you think.”

Charles rose to his feet in a second, fists clenched at his side. Sebastian took a step back. He’d never seen his teammate this angry. Not even after Monaco qualifying or Austria.

“You think I haven’t learned that. Really? Are you joking Sebastian?!" Charles was livid.

"You’re married with children. Your father is still here. You have 4 world championships. What the _fuck_ do you know about fairness?!" "My father is dead. J-” Charles stuttered, voice cracking. “Jules is dead. An-Anthoine is dead.”

He turned away from Seb. “It was his birthday today, you know. I wanted to win for him.”

Sebastian stood silently, staring at Charles who still had his back to him. He’d really put his foot in it. The German had forgotten the ghosts that haunted his teammate. How? He wasn’t sure. Charles had an aura of tragedy that surrounded him. Like some goddamn Shakespearean hero.

Charles finally turned around; arms crossed defensively. Sebastian couldn’t blame him. He’d just provoked the Monegasque into an emotional breakdown. Not exactly sportsmanlike behavior.

If Charles, wasn’t, well, Charles, he would have expected a punch coming his way. But the aggressiveness Charles exhibited inside his Ferrari did not translate into personal interactions. One of the many, many, many, insufferably endearing traits the media lauded him for.

“I’m sorry.”

It was a broad apology. Sebastian truly was sorry. Not just for what had just occurred but for all that his teammate had lost. Charles wasn’t wrong. He had no idea what it felt like to lose a father and a brother figure before even turning 20.

“It’s fine.” Charles stared at the ground, scuffing his shoe along the ground. “It was what was best for the team. Mattia explained it to me.”

A silence fell between the two.

The German watched Charles for a moment. The Monegasque staring up at the sky, as if trying to search for stars among the blinding Singapore city lights. It gave Sebastian the chills.

“They’re watching Charles. Don’t worry.”

“I know. I just…” His younger teammate trailed off; gaze fixed upward.

Sebastian waited for him to finish his train of thought but Charles seemed lost in thought. The German sighed.

“Goodnight Charles.”

He turned away, heading out of the paddock. One last glance of his shoulder showed Charles sitting on the ground, knees pulled up to his ch__est, eyes still to the sky._ _

**Author's Note:**

> I have lots of feelings about the dynamic between these two. Until Russia....


End file.
